


Bitter/Sweet

by levitatethis



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spending a little too much time together, Mohinder is driving Sylar up the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter/Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mylar Fic Holiday Prompt Table: "Candy Cane"

There are a lot of things about Mohinder Sylar has come to find increasingly irritating.

His stubborn pride, for one thing, only knocked down by a well-executed (and more troublesome than its worth) battle of wills. Then there is his default sarcasm when he disagrees with an opinion, and the flipside passive aggressiveness of a rolling eyes quip when he is pretending to give up some leeway.

Even when Mohinder reads to himself, if it is something he is trying to truly conceptualize, he mouths the whispered words and “hmmms” or sighs; there’s never actual, honest to goodness quiet. He talks incessantly about research or being annoyed at himself for not putting up a bigger fight in reaction to their being partnered up by Bennet; worse, he’ll talk about mundane things just to fill the quiet. Sylar is sure part of that is motivated by Mohinder not wanting to risk Sylar picking a questionable topic of conversation—and between them there are many.

Sylar wouldn’t mind these things so much—he hadn’t at first—but being trapped (because at times that’s exactly what _this_ feels like) for days on end in a car on a stakeout (getting six hours of sleep in a motel each night does not suffice as a break) is exacerbating everything.

His current point of contention (besides Mohinder nattering away in the passenger seat about their latest mark’s ability—and honestly, Sylar doesn’t think Alejandro sounds so bloody special) is Mohinder’s insistence on chomping down noisily on the candy cane he took (with a bright smile for the clerk) from the reception counter at the motel.

Sylar’s always taken a quieter, more deliberate approach to the winter candy and though some of that was a result of his mother making him mind his manners, the larger reason is his regard for it as more than a treat to be consumed mindlessly. Sylar has always handled candy canes with careful consideration. Beginning at one end, then moving to the other, he works his tongue along the curves, sucking until he has created two sharp points. After admiring his handiwork he continues the same process until a small, sharp nub is left for him to bite down on and swallow.

There’s no such method to Mohinder’s tactics. In between remarks or while he mutters over something in the files, he bites off bits of the cane, making it successively shorter, until he’s completely finished, barely tasting any of it.

Listening to him, Sylar wishes he had accepted the candy cane Mohinder offered when they set out that morning, just so he could use it right now to stab Mohinder in the throat and force him to _stop fucking talking _for two seconds.

Sylar wonders why he is compromising himself and putting up with someone like Mohinder in the name of work. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. If Sylar teamed up with Peter they could get out all their aggression by almost killing each other and moving on—until the next disagreement. But then Sylar would have to listen to Peter talk about Emma non-stop and Sylar can’t bring himself to pretend to care. At least Mohinder, more often than not, is able to engage Sylar with subjects that are actually interesting.

Along those lines, partnering with Bennet (again) would be a test in patience as Bennet would certainly condescend and state orders with an air of disinterest for anything Sylar had to say. Giving credit where credit is due, despite Mohinder’s verbal jabs, he does hear Sylar out and consider his opinion.

Of course, in this moment all Sylar can think is why he hasn’t killed Mohinder yet. All it would take is one simple—

He glares in Mohinder’s direction in time to see him lick his lips.

He remembers…urgent kisses that became deep and slow, heated peppermint across his tongue and sweet sugar on sticky lips that accompanied gasps and low moans, stolen breath and clutching fingers.

It doesn’t matter why it happened or that nothing more came of it. Its existence, alone, is enough to kick up the corners of Sylar’s lips. The unexpected always makes a statement. And this was a big one neither of them saw coming; one that still lingers, uninterested in leaving any time soon.

Anticipation is half the suggestion and Sylar’s imagination can fill in the blanks, distracting him from doing anything stupid in the meantime.

 

 


End file.
